


Here and Heaven

by girlintheivy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Angels fighting demons, Destiel - Freeform, Eventual Sex, Fallen Angels, Guardian Angels, Heaven, How the series could have been, Impala Sex, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:12:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlintheivy/pseuds/girlintheivy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angels were expected to be the best soldiers, the obedient and fierce warriors of the Lord. Castiel was just a soldier, a captain, not noteworthy at all. </p><p>He was just an angel and then he met Dean Winchester and his life changed. He found himself when he was lost. But the journey wasn't easy.</p><p>This Castiel's story, all the little cracks and empty places filled in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here and Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> It is a bit of a slow start, but it will pick up pace soon. And don't let the tags worry you, this is Destiel, with reference and exploration of the canon relationships also.

_Castiel_ had been a good and loyal angel. He had sought revelation, he had followed the orders given to him, he had never questioned a single word. He had accepted his lot and never deviated from what he had been told to do. And when he felt lost and felt the beginnings of _something, of feelings,_ he would look up and search for the reasons there. And reasons he always found, written in the sky, etched in the stars. The _secrets_ of the world were written there, only so the angels could see them. Remainders of the past and foretellings of what was yet to come. Castiel knew his place in the ever stretching darkness, a deep consuming black sky that was lit by the souls of angels, beacons to mark the way. Castiel was just another light for the humans. 

 

Castiel had always been the ideal soldier, _a perfect angel_ , until everything fell to pieces. It had taken one touch and _Castiel_ was gone in a rush of emotions and thoughts and doubts.

 

In his place was left _Cas_. 

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

_“Cas, this isn’t you! Fight it!”_

 

_“Cas, fight this.”_

 

_“Cas, please don’t.”_

 

_“Cas!”_

 

_“I know you can hear me. Cas, it’s me. We’re family.”_

 

_“You have to choose, Castiel. Us or them.”_

 

_“We need you.”_

 

_“I need you.”_

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

“Today, we lay siege on hell. Our goal is to retrieve and resurrect the soul of Dean Winchester. That is our only objective today. We do not stop for any reason.”

 

Castiel was not sure how long they had spent at the doors of hell, fighting and fighting, but advancing no further. The demons had been clever, had had this plan from Lilith all along, so they had prepared for the inevitable. The angels had not expected this at all, had not put all the pieces together until it was very nearly too late. Still, the orders came from on high that this was their duty and they would fulfill them. 

 

It took so long for there to be a crack in hell’s hold and that was when they knew. However, they didn’t stop, even though they had lost this. The angels still had need of Dean. Castiel felt just a twinge of compassion for this poor man, the one who so much depended on and he didn’t even know. But, it was only a twinge. Castiel would carry out the mission or he would not be returning home. That was the certainty of his life. 

 

Did angels have lives? Did they live as humans did? What was the existence of an angel to be?

 

Castiel did not wonder about those things anymore. He knew his duty. He knew his place. And his place was in hell currently, he thought idly as he smote another demon at the gates. There was no way in, it seemed. They needed to save Dean Winchester, but the demons were clever and had every entrance and exit blocked. But then, Castiel saw a tiny crack in the stone walls. It was not big, nor very noticeable. However, it might be enough. Castiel sent a message to his brothers and sisters, waiting for them to come and decide what to do. Hester, Samandriel, and Uriel were the first few over, inspecting the small crack. 

 

“There is enough space for someone small to slip through,” Castiel said softly, looking around cautiously. “Perhaps Samandriel--”

 

“No, Castiel,” Raphael said, the sound of wings accompanying his sudden appearance. “No, it must be you.”

 

“Why must it? I am not--”

 

“You are ready for this, Castiel. This is your mission.” Raphael placed two fingers against Castiel’s forehead, transferring an image to him and only him. “That is the soul of Dean Winchester. You must find him and release him.”

 

“I understand,” Castiel said softly, lowering himself into a bow of sorts. “I will not fail.”

 

“Go, Castiel. Fulfill our Father’s plan,” Raphael replied, turning his back on Castiel, his great white wings fluttering around, powerful and intimidating. “We will guard you.”

 

Castiel exchanged a fleeting glance with Samandriel and then he turned to the crack. He folded his wings close to his body and slipped through the wall, past the gates, and into Hell itself. 

 

He stood in a stone hall that was older than he was, older than Raphael or Gabriel or any of the angels. It felt older than time itself, but Castiel did not have time to linger and examine the walls, learn the secrets that the stones held. He could only reach out and skim his touch over the cool wall and keep down the hallway. There were cells on every side and souls yowled and cried out, begging and pleading for release, for forgiveness. Angels were to protect humans, but Castiel did not pause. He avoided their outstretched arms and kept his eyes fixed forward. His dark brown flecked with white wings drew in closer, even as they puffed up just a little bit. Castiel would not say it, but he was scared. Angels were not meant to be in Hell. It would not be long before a demon found him, until he was forced to fight, until he was overpowered by sheer numbers, until he was dragged to the ruler of Hell, until he was forced to submit. Castiel was young still. 

 

His fallen brother’s mark still lingered in Hell. 

 

Castiel ducked around a corner, dodging the two demon grunts who were dragging some poor soul down the hall in this twisted labyrinth. She fought and screamed and yelled, but they held her fast. Castiel was just out of sight of their black, soulless eyes. He moved down the hall, still looking helplessly for the soul he wished to find. Why was this his duty? He did not know why he was to go find this Dean Winchester, the man who had broken to hell’s whip. Dean Winchester, who was he? Castiel did not know. 

 

Castiel’s only job was to deliver Dean from hell to Earth. Someone else would take over from there. Dean would have his own angel to guard him and guide him. Castiel would return to the front, would return to the midst of the war that was taking place. 

 

All of a sudden, Castiel was  nearly blinded by the flash of light coming from the cell just down the hall. It was the sign of a soul in distress. But, it was not any soul. It was Dean Winchester. Castiel was already running down the hall, feeling an immediate and compelling connection to that soul, something tripping up his memories. He needed to be there, needed to be near that soul and help the human, he needed to be with him, with Dean Winchester. 

 

Castiel moved too quickly and found himself nearly falling into a deadly demon. It stood there, power curled around its body and Castiel realized just who he was looking at it.

 

“What do we have here?” the demon asked, drawing close to Castiel, taking in his large wings and smiling cheekily. “A little angel...how far you have fallen. What brings you here?”

 

Castiel did not waste time with words, raising an hand to smite the demon. The demon reached out and grabbed onto Castiel’s wrist, laughing. “Oh no, you don’t, little angel. You’re--”

 

He never found out what he was because the demon cried out and burned brightly for a moment before disappearing. Castiel instinctively knew that his path had been purposefully cleared. He had only moments and so he darted forward to the cell. All it took was a single touch to the door and it flew open to reveal the righteous man. He was bent over some soul on a rack, torturing them. Castiel did not have eyes for the other soul, merely going to Dean Winchester and grabbing his arm. 

 

“Hey--” Dean started to say, turning to see who was there, but he almost immediately was blinded by Castiel’s true form and fell limp to Castiel’s hold. 

 

“Neat little trick that is,” Alastair said, in the doorway, blocking Castiel’s way out. Castiel did not know when he had arrived there. Perhaps Alastair was watching over his little protege. “Just waltzing your way in here, taking out Mammon along your way...naughty, aren’t you? You need to be taught a lesson. I imagine you won’t hold out much longer than Dean Winchester...little angel that you are. We know how to break the lot of you. He told us, you see? He told us secrets of how weak you angels are.” 

 

“Out of my way, Alastair,” Castiel growled, spreading his wings and puffing himself up into something bigger and more intimidating. “I am burdened with orders from Heaven. Heaven’s will shall be done.”

 

“And your orders brought you here into my domain,” Alastair said with a chuckle, stepping closer to Castiel and Dean. “Let my student go and come easy, little angel. It’ll only hurt a lot. The best way to start with angels is rip their feathers out, one by one. You’ll scream so prettily it’s addicting. Your wings are weak. There’s nowhere for you to go, little angel, so you might as well stay.”

 

Castiel had been looking around for a way out of the situation, but there was no way. He was trapped with a demon and a human soul. However, in a rush, it hit him. His wings twitched as he met Alastair’s deadly glare and merely shook his head. “Another day, Alastair.”

 

Castiel let his grace shine through. It blinded most everyone, because Castiel was young and vibrant, full of promise and unburdened yet. He was not broken to bridle yet, a disciple of heaven and its beauty. Castiel was the unknown element in the equation and Alastair could only cry out as the young angel’s grace blazed. Something had to give and Castiel was expelled from Hell, flapping his wings and letting the rising hot air help guide him out. The flames licked at his wings and Castiel gripped Dean Winchester tighter, dragging him out of perdition. 

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

Castiel returned to the garrison once Dean Winchester was safely in his body. He had done his job; he had ensured that Dean Winchester was safe and alive. The angels could now return to protecting the seals and trying to sort out the next course of action. Castiel should have felt glad of a job well done, proud that he had been successful, content in the righteousness of what had occurred. 

 

Instead, Castiel had returned feeling empty and needing of something that he could not articulate. He was not used to these feelings, but they had been known to happen. He and Anna had oft discussed these things, especially in the time leading up to her fall. She had started to express feelings and Castiel had been her one solace during her final decision. But now, Anna was gone and Castiel was left alone in heaven, in a position of power and unsure of the first thing to do with it. 

 

His wings were black now. Raphael had been the one to explain what had happened to Castiel once he had returned. 

 

“Castiel, what lies in hell?” 

 

“Demons. Damned souls.”

 

“And?”

 

“And, I am unsure,” Castiel said, ashamed of his lack of knowledge.

 

“Hell fire, Castiel,” Raphael said patiently. “You flew through the fires of hell, carrying a human soul with you. By protecting Dean Winchester, you subjected yourself to the flames and they damaged you.”

 

“How could they damage my wings? I am a celestial being.”

 

Raphael nodded, but he cocked his head, looking over the angel in front of him. “Castiel, you are still young. You think you are impenetrable to all damage, but you are susceptible to some things. Everything and everyone have weaknesses. We know how to destroy the demons. Why would you doubt that the demons do not know ways to destroy us? Everything is a defense. And everything is dangerous.

 

“Wear your wings proudly. They are black from the fires of hell. There is no more noble honor you could be given other this.”

 

:-:-:-:-:-: 

 

Angels were _soldiers._ That was not how the Bible painted the servants of _God,_ but it was what they were. They fought the demons, protected the people, and they got no thanks.  Instead, they were given more tasks, more jobs, more battles to be fought. They dealt with desperate prayers and watched their father’s children _die_ and there was not a damn thing they could do about it sometimes. They could not argue and they could not dispute an order from on high. They were pawns in the chess match between Heaven and Hell, stuck somewhere between _here and heaven_. 

 

Castiel’s part in this match had been planned from the start. He had been meant to only be a _pawn_ , just another disposable angel on the front of war. Then Anna had fallen and Castiel had taken her place. Perhaps things were supposed to happen this way and Castiel was always meant to be there. Perhaps it was just a _coincidence_.  

 

The religious will say that there are no coincidences, no happy accidents. They will say that things were _meant to be_. But, that is not the whole truth. Sometimes, events happen and things get derailed and life changes in a second. A little occurrence, a bird flapping its wings, a rain drop falling from the green leaves on the trees to the ground, can spark a chain of events that were never meant to happen. _Life_ springs from death, but there is fatality in the hope that it will bring. 

 

Castiel was only one son of God. He was not an archangel, like Gabriel or Raphael. He was not the first one, the eldest, the strongest, the most noble; Michael. He was not the rebel, the one so lost in his ideals that he failed the one who he tried to impress the most; Lucifer. He was _not important_ at all. He was just a young soldier, young and strong, but there were others like him. Castiel’s destiny was not the one _written_ about. 

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

It was in the darkness that Castiel found Dean Winchester. That man’s soul had called out to him and he had found the tug irresistible. It clawed inside him until he was drawn to bend the borders of space and time and went back. He watched a newly born Dean Winchester be rocked by his mother. He saw Dean look at his little brother for the first  time and know that Sammy was the one he had to protect. He watched Dean lose his mother. Lose his brother. Lose his father. Reconcile with his brother, fight monsters, fight hell, fight the world all in desperation to save people, to save Sam. He watched Dean sell his soul. He watched the hell hounds rip him to shreds. 

 

Castiel did not know how long he spent lost in the time line of Dean Winchester. He did not look to the future, to what Dean’s future would hold, because he was afraid of what he would see. Fear was not an emotion of the angels, but Castiel could not deny the growing dread he experienced when he thought of Dean Winchester. Raphael came to Castiel and pulled him out of the memories. For a while, neither of them spoke. Castiel kept looking away, trying to avoid Raphael’s piercing gaze, the truth that he could pull out of Castiel. Raphael always saw more than others would like him to see. He saw the vision of their father  and, like Michael, he would do anything to preserve that.

 

And thus was what _he saw_. 

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

**Castiel would fall. He would fall hard and fast and he would be consumed by the fire that was there, waiting, lingering. Castiel would be drawn into the darkness and he would pass. He would succeed. But at what cost? What would be lost? How many lives, how many angels? Was it worth it?**

 

**Castiel would hit the ground and have to remember how to breathe. He would have to learn to stand again, raise his head and keep walking. He would have to carry on, hold the burdens of everything in the world and feel is gnaw at him inside, strangle his heart, claw up his throat, burning for an escape. He would have to decide whether to let it go or keep it in. Could he even let go? It was Castiel.**

 

**It was the little angel who had always watched over Earth. He had looked up at the birds that flapped their little wings and fought the wind, looked down on the fish that fought the currents dragging them back, had watched grass grown and stretch towards the sun even in the storms that ravaged the planet.  It was Castiel who had watched the men, stupid idiots that they were, fight over religion and righteousness and land ownership. It was Castiel who had walked on the battlefields long after it was over and sat down and touched the blood covering the blades of grass and looked up as those little birds kept soaring up to the sun and the water kept rushing by in the stream and life carried on, but Castiel did not forget. Castiel sat there and looked around and existed and knew that this world was terrible and brilliant and wonderful and heartbreaking. It was Castiel who had shed tears as he had held a sparrow in his hands and tried to heal the dead bird.**

 

**Castiel would be lost.**

 

**No, that was not the truth of the matter and Raphael knew. Castiel had been lost the moment he had laid a hand on Dean Winchester.**

 

:-:-:-:-:-:

 

To Castiel, Dean Winchester was no longer the man of the stories or the righteous man. Castiel had connected with this human and it would not fade away with time. He never wanted to leave the battlefield, leave behind his brothers and sisters, but he knew that it would come to that. He could leave freely or he would be retrained. He would be replaced. What he was would be lost forever. He would be something else. 

 

Castiel was a flare on the screen, a star miles away in the black night. He was one of many and thousands were needed for this fight. Castiel was a good soldier, that was what everyone said. He was captain. 

 

However, as Castiel waited for Raphael’s judgement, he knew it was already over. His fate had been decided. He had known since that demon had burst into bright flames, beautiful light that was heavenly. It had been heaven in hell. 

 

Castiel knew he had to leave, because those who burned brightest were put out. 

 

“Castiel, the man, Dean Winchester, needs a guide.” 

 

“I will do it,” Castiel answered without hesitation, without thought. Dean Winchester needed a guardian and Castiel would be nowhere other than at his side. 

 

Raphael’s answer took a while to come. And when it did, Castiel felt the weight of the words on his shoulders and knew that this would never be what he had expected. It would not be simple. It would be everything, balanced on the edge of a sword, the line between good and evil smeared together as heaven and hell fought. 

 

“Castiel, you may undertake this mission, but never forget where you are from. Never forget Heaven’s rule. Never may you stray from our teachings and our mission. Never forget that you are an Angel of the Lord and you will serve Him. Guide Dean Winchester through his trials and his mission, but you are of heaven, Castiel. You will always return to us.

 

“We will give you guidance when you need it. Help when you reach for it. Revelation when you seek it.  You are an angel, Castiel, never forget that. Never abandon that. Heaven will never leave you. We can only let you go and do as we will, but know that you will always return. Your place is here. 

 

“You belong here in Heaven, Castiel, but necessity requires this. Go, Castiel. The will of Heaven goes with you.”


End file.
